Mekrelmar
by HeCallsMeHisChild
Summary: Mekrelmar--Meh-krell-mar--: Disloyal, betrayer, one who commits treason, turncoat. Common definition: Worst possible sort of traitor in history.
1. Prologue

**Note:** I don't like having so many unfinished fics up at once, but the ideas for this one would not leave me alone. So here's the relevant information. This is a sequel to Maneem. I restate, the only romance in this story will be between Della and Tom. Do NOT read between the lines ANYwhere else.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hurry up, we're gonna be late."

"Coming." The slender figure adjusted her sweater and wound a colorful scarf around her neck. Shaking her black hair free, she pulled on a cap and hurried out the door, grasping the outstretched hand of her impatient little sister.

"Don't want you getting in trouble wiv Ms. Bitters again, just cause you got dention last week, I had to wait too."

"Detention," The older girl corrected. "We won't be late."

"You said that last week," The younger sang.

Mikko did not answer. She felt no need to waste words on what would become a pointless argument. Allowing herself a smile, she tweaked her sister's pigtail.

"Hey!" Tiana complained. "I brushded it myself!"

Still, Mikko only grinned.

"You're too quiet," Tiana whined, keeping pace as Mikko led her to the bus stop.

"And you talk too much."

"Ha! Gotcha to talk."

Rolling her eyes, Mikko tugged her other pigtail. "Go brag to Mr. Elliot then. I'm finished for now."

Impishly, Tiana saluted her older sister, and boarded the waiting bus. Mikko climbed in after her, sitting a few seats away.

Quiet and brooding, Mikko had made very few friends in her time at Skool, but she didn't care. Most of the girls thought of nothing but how to get a boy, and most of the boys thought of nothing but how to score a girl. She, being interested in neither, was shunned by both. Her silence was taken as snottiness, and her reclusive nature as a sign of being anti-social. Few, if any, knew that the brief conversations she held with her sister and teachers were the result of two years spent overcoming a post-traumatic stress disorder.

Distracted, her mind drifted back. She'd worked hard to improve for when he came back. He promised, and she wanted to show him she was doing better, just like he was. His friend came over to visit a lot. She and her sister loved hearing stories about the battles they used to fight, and how crazy they'd been. It showed just how far he had come.

Air brakes hissed as the bus slid to a stop. Checking her watch, Mikko frowned. She'd barely have enough time to make it to her locker and then class. She hurried to get off, but paused on the steps of the Skool. Gazing at the overcast sky, she allowed a sigh to escape.

_You will come back, won't you, Zim?_

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thin, spindly claws scooped up a pile of dust, and blood-red eyes watched it trickle from his grasp. It fell slowly, but that was no surprise. Everything fell slowly here. With no atmosphere and inhospitable temperatures, the Moon made a perfect, if lonely, hiding place. From his underground dwelling, he could monitor all Earth broadcasts and information networks, and from the surface he could see the watery planet. He'd learned to dodge NASA probes and did his best to keep GIR from eating them. No sense giving them a reason to send more cameras.

For two Earth years he'd survived in isolation, waiting for the furor over his disappearance to die down. Occasionally he would contact the Dib through the internets, always under a different pseudonym, but somehow the hyuman could always tell who he really was chatting with. He made a mental note to learn more of the hyumans' peculiar expressions to minimize suspicions in the future.

According to Dib and the broadcasts, Earth had mostly forgotten about him. As long as he found himself a decent disguise and kept away from the Swollen Eyeball, he'd been told, it should be safe for him to return.

"Here's hoping," Zim muttered.

"All-ready!" Giggled a childish voice from behind. "All packed an' stuffs, do I get a new doggie suit?"

Zim glanced down, amused. "No, GIR. We go in with much, much better disguises this time. I'll show you on the way down."


	2. Christmas

Dib writhed helplessly on the floor, his entire being wracked with wave after wave of laughter. He pointed a shaking finger at the gangly form in the doorway, and relapsed into hysteria.

A cold, menacing voice asked, "Are you quite done?"

In front of the incapacitated boy stood a perfectly normal human male. Average height, if a bit skinny, with baggy jeans and a bright orange turtleneck sweater. Three metal piercing lined one ear, and the average-sized head was topped with a high, bright green Mohawk. A hateful glare completed the image, venom pouring from his eyes and their deep red irises.

Next to him bounced a... bright... yellow... rabbit.

Zim grabbed the rabbit by its ears and dragged it inside, shutting the door. A well-placed kick in the ribs turned Dib's laughter into groans of pain.

"For your information, stink-monster, I researched the appearances of many, many hyumans before arriving at this disguise."

Gasping for air, Dib motioned to the rabbit. "And that?"

Zim glanced down, scowling. "When the Angry Monkey show got cancelled, he found the ahneemay channel. Apparently there's a character he liked, and he wanted his disguise based on it. Something about a hyuman that turns into a bunny sometimes when it's hugged or whatever. He can switch back and forth, so I figure it has tactical advantages--will you stop laughing!" He raised his boot threateningly.

Dib pushed himself up, snickering. "Well... it's a step in the right direction. You still stick out, but you're not as suspicious looking."

"I'm so glad you approve," Zim mocked. "Now, my familial unit hasn't moved, have they?" He couldn't keep the anxious note from his voice.

Dib rubbed his head. "Yeah, they moved, but not far. They got sick of all the media people swarming them whenever they walked out the door, so they moved and got an unlisted number. They've kept in touch with me, though, and I visit the girls, so I know where they are."

"Then why are we still standing here?" Zim demanded. "We should go there, now!"

"Whoah, whoah Spaceboy, where's your sense of the dramatic?"

"Eh?"

"Tomorrow's Christmas."

"So?"

"So wait a day. Show up tomorrow with an armload of presents for everybody. It'll be sweet."

"Zim is not sweet!"

"Obviously, but the girls will love it. Trust me."

"Trust _you_?" But he sighed. He did want to make it special. "You do understand that by making Zim wait until tomorrow, you agree to house me tonight?"

Dib started. "Wait, wha? I never said--"

"Good. I'm glad we have that settled. After all," he taunted, heading up the stairs, "I'd hate to have the girls' Christmas spoiled by an early drop in."

"You jerk," Dib grumbled, climbing after him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Wake up. Mikko, Tiana, wake up."

Mikko groaned, and Tiana mumbled, "Five more minutes."

"Alright, but don't blame me if half the presents are already opened.

Mikko felt the bed shift as Tiana flew out from under the covers. "It's Christmas! Mikko wake up, it's Christmas!"

Resigning herself to lost sleep, Mikko slipped out of bed and into her slippers, gliding across the floor. Smiling at Della, she reached up and hugged her. She reveled in Della's smile for a minute, before pulling a bathrobe over her nightgown. Dragged by her overexcited sister, she made her way to the family room and sat near the tree. Leaning in close, she breathed in the scent of pine. If she concentrated, she could just hear the crackling fire across the room.

"Present time!" Tiana proclaimed.

"Not quite," Tom's deep voice rumbled. "Wait till we're all ready. Besides, we still haven't had our hot cocoa."

Della, balancing a tray of steaming mugs, planted a kiss on top of his head, before handing out the chocolatey goodness. Mikko gratefully took hers and sipped it, allowing the warm, sweet richness to swirl in her mouth before swallowing it down.

Abrubtly a knock sounded at the door. Della arched an eyebrow at Tom, who shrugged.

"Tiana, would you get that please?"

Tiana skipped to the door, chocolate mustache and all, and opened it. She shrieked, "Dib! You came!" She clung to his leg, laughing.

Dib allowed himself a small smile. "Hey, just came with some presents for everyone." Swallowing a laugh, he added, "I asked my friend to carry them for me."

Behind him staggered a stack of presents on legs that grumbled, "Stupid sneaky awful conniving dirt-stink." Dib allowed the figure to stagger in, and it heaved the presents at the base of the tree.

Mikko looked at him oddly. She'd never seen someone with red eyes before... well, she had, but not a human. The boy--man--she couldn't tell how old he was--motioned to the door, which Dib quickly shut. Dib then continued around the room, drawing all the drapes and closing the window blinds.

Tom blinked. "Uh, Dib? We'd actually like the light to come in, it's a wonderful day out--"

"Actually, if you'd like to know, it's not." All eyes turned to where the stranger had stood a moment ago, only now a short, bug-eyed creature had taken his place. "First of all, your sky is pouring frozen acids and second, the freezing temperatures would suck out all life warmth if one didn't have these disgustingly hot sweater-things to wear."

Mikko's heart leapt in her throat. She'd waited two years for him to come back. He'd been with them such a short time, but he'd known. He'd known what it was like to have the pain. He'd known what it was like to always be afraid. He'd known what it was like to wake up every morning screaming. Trembling, she stood and reached toward the creature she called brother.

"Zim?"

He turned to her, a gentle smile on his face. "Merry Christmas, smeet."


	3. Maneem

"Uh, Mikko? Mikko, don't hold him so tight, he's turning turquoise." Dib bit his tongue to keep from laughing at Zim's discomfort. Alarmed, Mikko loosened her grip, allowing Zim to gasp in air.

"I... m-missed you too, smeet, but... but don't k-kill Zim just yet." He smiled weakly, then yelped as a smaller blur tackled him from behind.

"Zim! You back!" Tiana clung, wildly excited.

Zim winced. "Watch the PAK, you're jamming it through my spine!"

Dib released the laughter he'd been holding back as Tom picked all three up and wrapped them in a rib-crushing embrace. Zim's tongue hung out of his mouth, and Dib wondered how long he could survive without oxygen.

"Hey! Break it up, he can't breathe!" Della's tone cut sharply through the reunion. Grinning, Tom set them down. Zim flopped to the ground, gulping deep breaths of air.

"One... word... stink-meat... and I kill... you..." He pointed a shaky claw at Dib.

"Who, me?" Dib forced an innocent face, pulling out his camera. "I wouldn't dream of humiliating you by mentioning your near-death family reunion."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why are you here?" Her voice brought him around quickly. He'd escaped from the family's clutches to regain his breath in the kitchen. He felt grudging gratitude toward the Dib, who'd distracted them by beginning an explanation of Zim's exile, but realized he should have known better. Very few things deterred Della, and by the anger sparking her eyes, he guessed she hadn't forgiven him for breaking contact.

"I'm here to visit my family," he said, his face unreadable. "You said I was welcome in this family."

"You left," she cleared her throat, as if to remove an obstruction, "You left and you never sent word back."

"How can you send a single word back if it is spoken?" Zim's antennae raised quizzically. As Della's eyebrows lowered further, he amended, "A hyuman expression, apologies, still attempting to understand. You are angry I did not communicate." His expression softened. "I couldn't. If there was any leak at all, even accidental, they would have come for Zim, and I would have had to move farther away and spend even longer in hiding. Dib was the only one with the necessary security and understanding of how important silence was."

"In other words, you couldn't trust us."

Realizing he was on unsteady ground, he tried again. "You don't understand, what if I communicated with you, and suddenly Tiana entered? She is only a smeet, too young to understand the danger she could put me in. She still could give me away, but now, at least, the worst of my disappearance is over, and people will be less likely to believe her."

Her voice rose. "And why did you have to change back?"

Zim paused, and his antennae drooped. He knew what she meant. In his darkest moments, after being declared a Defect by the Control Brains, he had slipped into a mental state of smeethood. Combined with a desperate need he'd only begun to realize, this had bonded Della to him as his mother, in his mind. Yet when crisis arose, and the worst of his insanity had passed, he'd returned to being Zim. Although more sane, he was still abrasive, pompous, and bossy. The change had distanced Della, and that had been the last time he'd seen her before leaving.

Quietly, he asked, "And does that mean you no longer care for Zim? Because he is no longer smeet-like? I'd hoped that wouldn't matter. It doesn't matter to them," he gestured to the family room.

She bit her lip, turning her head. "It's just... different."

"No, no it isn't. You think of two persons, one is Zim the alien, and one is Zim the child. But they aren't different, they are the same." His antennae hung limp. "I can't force you to see that, as much as I'd like to be able to. I couldn't stay smeet-minded forever. Just long enough for some... some... some healing in my brain-meats. You wish Zim still half-sane?"

"I don't know what I wish." She replied tightly.

"While you try and decide, would you accept Zim as he is now?" He murmured sadly.

Della turned to face him, then hesitantly held out her arms. Zim calculated the height distance and grabbed a chair, dragging it over. Hopping up on it, he stretched on his toes and wrapped his arms around her neck. Her arms closed around his body, and he felt the lonely ache in his chest begin to ease.

"I missed you." She whispered. "I was angrier than I'd been about anything else, but I missed you."

He buried his face in her shoulder, letting small amounts of fluid leak from his eyes.

"It's good to be home, Maneem."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Note:** If you don't know what Maneem means, go back and read the story!!! "Maneem" is the prequel to this story. Also, be forewarned that I'm probably going to introduce several Irken terms in this story. Of course I made them up! It's not like Jhonen made up an entire spoken language like Tolkien did! Written, yes, but there's no possible way of deciphering it...


	4. Shopping

**Note:** Alright, so I forgot. There will be one more romantic-type relationship, but it's with Ivan and Gloria. I forgot them when I started the story.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Zim muttered, dragging his feet.

"Because you need a decent set of clothes if you'll be staying, and I wouldn't pass up watching you humiliate yourself for the world." Dib grinned, pushing him faster.

"Dun' be so mean, Dib," Tiana pleaded, "Zim's our big brother."

"Don't worry," He assured her, "Zim and I go back several years, and this is not mean in any sense of the word, compared to what we used to do. Right, Zim?"

"Oh, of course, Dib. The word you're looking for, Tiana, is not mean, but obnoxious." Zim admonished.

"Hey!"

Tiana giggled, and Mikko smiled, elbowing Zim. She motioned to a department store nearby, and led them in. Instantly, a dozen salesladies in gaudy aprons and heavy makeup descended on them. From perfume to watches to shoes to nylons, product after product was shoved in their faces. Finally, Zim latched onto a word he knew.

"Sweater! Sweater-lady, you!" The others retreated, casting frustrated glares at the triumphant woman.

"Oh we have all kinds of sweaters on sale, especially now that Christmas is over. Sales sales sales!"

"Uh, yes, that's wonderful, but--"

"And as you can see here, we have all kinds of sweaters. There's cold weather sweaters and warm weather sweaters, light sweaters, heavy sweaters, wool sweaters, polyester sweaters, polyester-wool blend sweaters, itchy sweaters, comfy sweaters, sweaters with hoods, sweaters with sleeves twice as long as your arms, sweaters with food stains--that's only decoration, don't look so alarmed--sweaters with witticisms, sweaters with band names, sweaters, sweaters, sweaters!"

With each "sweater", she tossed an article of clothing at Zim. Before long, he was no longer visible. Only a mound of sweaters marked where he stood. Tiana gaped, and Dib bit his finger hard. He knew Zim would ream him if he started laughing now.

The sweater mound trembled, then exploded, flinging fabric in every direction. "CLOTHING DRONE!" He shrieked, "I ONLY WANT A FEW SWEATERS, IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK? For the love of Ir..." He coughed hard for a minute, then recovered. "For the love of Earth, just show me where they are. _I'll_ decide from there."

"Oh," She mumbled. "Well, why didn't you say so? This way."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Orange looks good on you," Mikko stated as they walked back to the house.

Loaded with bags, Zim found it difficult to respond, but managed, "Really? I still do not understand this importance of matching color schemes. Hyumans place social importance on this knowledge?"

She nodded, ruefully. "Some more than others." She stuck her hands in the pouch of her hoodie, eyes on the ground.

Frowning, Zim ventured, "And this is the basis of large groups of hyumans having 'fun'? In togetherness?"

She nodded stiffly.

"And you have such a group?"

No response.

"Mikko?"

Silence.

Zim's scowl increased. "Your silence indicates you are not part of said large groupings. You have no friends?"

She shrugged, glancing over her shoulder to check on Tiana, who was deeply engaged in an argument with Dib on the nature of gummibears. "Dib."

"The Dib is it?" He snorted. "You don't seem to dress poorly, it makes no sense that you--"

"I don't talk." She kicked a snowclod.

"What do you mean, you don't talk? You talk to me, you talk to Dib, in fact you talk a hundred times better than you did two years ago."

She smiled at the compliment, but it faded quickly. "I don't like talking a lot." She shrugged again. "Here, if you don't talk, you're too good."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's what people think. You're too good for them."

Zim puffed, dragging the bags. "That makes no sense. Nothing on this dirtball does. Including the reason you and your sister dragged me to every department in the store when I only came for sweaters and this hyuman named Levi."

Chuckling, she reached over and mussed his holographic hair. Grabbing a few of the bags from him, she trudged to the door, knocking for Della to let them in.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Cold, smooth skin. Sharp. Deadly. Scratching at her flesh, ripping through her sockets. Darkness that held her down, defiled her, tore life from her womb. Day after day, month after month, but in the dark, time lost meaning. Hope lost power. She lost humanity. An unseen force squeezed her middle, driving air from her lungs._

_"You are mine."_

Shaking... she felt hands gripping her shoulders. A voice--not cruel, but frightened--drew her away from the horror. Her eyes cracked open, and a sepia-tone world washed into view. Ivan bent over her, jerking her back and forth frantically.

"Gloria, Gloria wake up! It's just a nightmare, wake up!"

She opened her mouth, trying to say something, but words failed. Relieved to see her conscious, Ivan Membrane let go, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

"Gloria, are you alright? You were screaming and..." He gestured helplessly.

Forcing a smile, she croaked, "I'm alright. Thank you, though."

Hesitantly, he stretched his arms out toward her. He looked so confused without his labcoat and goggles. She leaned into his embrace, breathing in his scent.

"Was it... was it the same nightmare?" He asked.

She clenched her eyes. "Yes."

She could feel his stomach and chest muscles tighten along with his grip as he tried to check his anger. "Ivan, don't... please, it's not worth it. Just forget about--"

"Forget?! Forget what that monster did to you? Forget... how could you even suggest it?"

"Shhhh," she laid a finger on his lips. "Because _I_ want to forget, Ivan. If you try to pay them back, who knows what might happen." She laid her head on his chest. "I don't want to go back." She whispered. "Let it be."

He stroked her hair, gently, lovingly, like he used to. Kissing her head, he murmured, "I won't let anything take my Glory away, not ever again."


	5. Argument

Zim quickly came to an important conclusion. Hyumans didn't play fair. After arriving back at the house, Dib had asked to speak with him in private. They'd withdrawn to Zim's room, and all too soon, tempers flared.

"No, Zim, I don't think you get it." Dib threw his hands up, frustrated by the alien's bull-headed mulishness. "And I don't get you. You of all people should _want_ to track Red down and hand him his butt on a platter."

"First of all, I have no desire to do such a disgusting thing. Second, Irkens don't even _have_ what you would consider 'buttocks'. Third, I've no intention of giving up something I've waited this long for! It is you, not Zim, who does not 'get it'." Zim poked a claw at Dib's chest, hard enough to provoke a flinch. "You, hyuman, have lived your life with family. Yes, yes, you say it was a poopy family--"

"Crappy." Dib corrected.

"Yes, yes, whatever. A crappy family, but a family anyway. You've never had to kill, maim, or train to survive. A few measly bully beatings are not the same as having your skeleton crushed by trainers. Zim states the facts. For the first time, Zim is in a situation where these things are not necessary, or even mentioned." Pointedly, he asked, "If you'd found a family that welcomed you and all your paranormal obsessionry and never forced you to be a 'real scientist', and your father didn't care, would you go to that family, or would you stay and try to revenge on your father?"

Dib blinked. "That comparison doesn't really work."

Crossing his arms, Zim snapped, "It's the best I can think of. Dib, I'd like nothing better than to see Red destroyed, but I'm not leaving my new family. They want me. And I want them."

Clenching his fists, Dib growled, "After what that scum did to my Mom, Zim, he _will_ pay. If you're that set on staying, fine. I don't care. But you'd better tell me how to get to him."

The Irken flailed his arms. "You speak as if you could just walk aboard the Massive with a gun and shoot him! You fool, your Presidential security forces are _nothing_ compared to the guard protecting the Tallests. The last time, when you found me there, you were lucky! They rarely visit the Control Brains, and when they do, it is assumed they are safe enough. You watered down a few soldiers, so what? You think you can face three dozen highly trained Irkens on your own?"

"No!" Dib shouted. "That's why you gotta come!"

"Over my dead body!"

"That could be arranged!"

They fell silent, staring at each other. Dib broke the silence first. "I didn't mean it like that. Look, Zim... I thought we sort of had a truce. Maybe even more than a truce," he hedged, unsure. "And I really need your help."

"I owe you nothing, hyuman. You saved Zim's life and helped save GIR. I saved your mother and gave her new eyes."

"I didn't say you owed me anything. I asked you to help me." His gaze dropped to the floor and he squinted, forcing the next few words out. "I'm... I'm putting myself in your debt. I'll owe you." He peeked up again, trying a different angle. "Besides, how else are you gonna lose the 'Defective' label he gave you?"

"It was the Control Brains," Zim lashed out, "and it's not something I can simply lose, like removing a sticker, you fool. Killing or harming ANOTHER Tallest would simply cement it further!"

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Another?"

"Yes, another." Zim returned, shortly. "Decades spent with only half my sanity intact led to lapses in logic that ended in accidents like an Infinite Energy Absorbing blob that devoured two Tallests."

Dib snickered. Zim's hand whipped back and snapped forward sharply, cracking hard on the boy's cheek. He stumbled back, clutching his face, eyes wide. Zim wasn't playing games.

"You think that is funny, hyuman?" He shrilled, infuriated. "You think it is funny, the things that happened? Fool! Imbecile! Ignorant idiot, you know nothing! Nothing of Irken society. Oh, you think you know just because you know of the heightocracy, but you know nothing. To say one is Defective doesn't just mean you're an outcast, it means you should never have been hatched! Your entire existence counts for nothing! In fact, your existence makes the universe itself worse! It is the second most worthless state an Irken could possibly be classed in. Even 'Insane' is a step above 'Defective'."

Rubbing his cheek, Dib stared up at Zim, who glowered over him.

"And what do you think to prove? If you attempt this, Red will be more determined to retrieve your Mother, simply to spite you!"

At this, Dib sprang to his feet, eyes sparking with anger. "I'll kill him! I'll kill him so she'll never have to worry about it again! She'll stop having nightmares! She won't jump when the phone rings! She won't run from the room when an alien movie is on! She won't..." He wiped his eyes. "She won't be afraid anymore." He searched Zim's face, pleadingly. "What if it was Della, Zim?"

Hyumans, Zim decided grimly, didn't play fair.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Note:** I love when Zim makes up words like "obsessionary".


	6. Preparations

"Hey, crazy, where do you think you're going?" Peeved, Dib ignored his sister, rummaging under the bed for clothing. He didn't care what Zim said, clothing worn more than a week stank, and he was going to be gone a while.

"Did you hear me? I said, where do you think you're going?"

"Away," Dib mumbled, pushing his head further in. He didn't hear her storm in, but he couldn't miss the searing pain in his seat when she kicked as hard as she could. His head jammed up against a glass display case of a shrunken head. He could have sworn it flinched, but it was probably just the fact that his glasses were wedged halfway through his skull at the moment. Dragging himself out from the darkness, he pried his glasses free and rubbed his head, grimacing.

"Thanks, Gaz. I'll have marks for a week and a headache for days." He glared. "What do you care anyway?"

She bent over him, cold evil in her eyes. "Mom's worried."

He tried to find something else to look at. "So?"

She pressed her face closer. The temperature seemed to drop. "She's never heard of this Camp Sweeter Venge you said you're going to."

He scrabbled backward, trying to put distance between himself and the sibling from hell. "So?"

"So," Her face stayed the same distance from his, despite the fact she didn't move forward, "You don't worry Mom. Got it?"

Sweat beaded on his forehead and clung there, frozen. "Yeah! Yeah, I got it, no worrying Mom."

Satisfied, Gaz turned on her heel and marched out, absorbed in the latest game. Dib shivered, scraping the ice from his forehead, wondering how someone as gentle as his Mom and as absent-minded as his Dad could ever have produced someone as soulless as his Sister.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you mean, Camp Platterserve? Where's that? Why are you going so soon? What aren't you telling me?"

Zim's antennae pressed flat against his skull, as if to escape the questions.

"Why aren't you answering me?"

"It's just a filthy hyuman camp so I can... better understand the Dib?" He forced a smile, hoping it would work. Della's piercing stare shredded his feeble lie. He sighed heavily. "It is a mission, a secret mission for the Dib and I. Something we have to do."

"And why can't you tell me?"

"Because it's not even _my_ mission, it was _his_ idea, and besides, if I tell you you'll try to stop me from going."

"Ah hah, then it's dangerous," She seized on the slip.

Zim spat something tersely in Irkish, then took a breath. "Maneem, listen. This is important to the Dib and... and for some reasons, important to Zim as well. It needs doing, and once it is done, perhaps there will be less possible danger to myself and the Dib family."

"Then," She deduced, voice lowering, "this has to do with Gloria. Which means your mission has to do with Red." She closed her eyes.

Zim growled, "Stop making your brain-meats work smart! You know none of this, it is a secret mission you know nothing about! And furthermo--"

He was caught off guard by a gentle hug from behind. Bending his antenna backward, he felt smooth, unbraided hair. He melted in the embrace, as Della looked on, tiredly.

"You have to go? To protect?" Mikko whispered sadly.

"Yes," he responded, "Zim must go."

"You'll come back soon? Sooner?"

"As soon as I can, and much sooner than before."

There was a moment's silence before she asked, "What's 'brother' in your language?"

Startled, Zim twisted around to face her. "Why?" His mind scrambled to come up with the equivalent. Familial terms such as that had been buried through years of single-minded training. "I... I think... Bray... Braysh... no, no, Braesur. That's it, Braesur."

"Braser," She tried, uncertainly.

"No, no. Bray-eh-sir."

"Braesur."

"That's right. Why?"

She fixed him with her dark brown stare. "Those words in your language, they have more meaning than in mine." She held him tightly again. "Braesur." Then she released him, and slipped out of the room, leaving him staring after her.

He turned to Della as she cleared her throat.

"Just... just be careful. Yeah?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "What? Zim? Not careful? Hah."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dib came up behind his Mom, stepping loudly so she wouldn't be startled. She sat on the couch, reading a book. Glancing up, she smiled and patted the cushion beside her. Eagerly, he leaped over the back and plopped down. She laughed, mussing his scythe.

"Dib, how many times have I got to tell you no jumping on the couch?"

He squirmed, grinning as he fixed his hair. "As many times as I tell you not to mess up my hair."

"Oh pff. It's not like you have to work at it, it grows that way."

"Thanks to Dad."

"Oh stop," She laughed. Calming, she asked, "So, you're off to camp tomorrow?"

He avoided her eyes. "Yes."

"With your new friend? Exiz or something?"

"Uh, yeah. We'll be gone for a month or so probably. There's a second month of camp if we want it." A pang went through his gut. Lying to his father was one thing. Lying to his mother...

Her mechanical eyes watched him, sadly. "Well... be careful there, alright? I want you back alive and in one piece."

He smiled. "Okay Mom."

Setting the book down, she lifted one arm. Dib needed little encouragement, and he leaned into her arms, squeezing her back. For a while, neither spoke. They simply sat, holding each other. Dib absorbed every second of it, burning it in his memory. He would need it, he knew, to keep him going for the next two months. He needed to remember who he was fighting this battle for.


	7. Stowaway

Today was not a good day, the Professor decided. He'd been reprimanded--him! The world's greatest scientist!--for forgetting a basic component of a crucial solution. He'd been directed to take time off and get his head on right. He clenched the steering wheel of his car, furious. Why couldn't they understand, only work put his head on right! Sending him away would make a wreck of him. He glanced up just in time to slam his brakes, stopping inches short from hitting a punk-looking teenager with red eyes. The boy had been crossing the road, toting several stuffed bags, several of which he had dropped.

"Watch where you drive your vehicle, hyuman!" He bent to pick up the bags, muttering.

Professor Membrane just sat there, confused, as his son appeared and hurried to help the boy.

"Son? What are you doing here? Who is that strange child?"

Dib flashed a nervous grin. "Nobody, just a friend, Dad. We're on our way to camp, we'll be gone for a month or so. Bye." He loaded his friend with luggage and shoved him off.

Membrane blinked. "Well... I can drive you to your stop or to the camp--"

"Thanks for the offer, Dad, but we've got it under control, don't worry now. See you at home, bye!" Dib hurried his friend, and both stumbled around the corner, out of sight.

The Professor's eyes narrowed. Something didn't feel right. True, he only knew a little about his son, but even with the little he knew, he could tell that this wasn't normal behavior. Usually his son would at least rant about saving the Earth before running off like that... and who was that boy? He'd never seen Dib with that boy before... hastily, he parked on the side of the road and set off in the direction he'd last seen them take.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"If that's your plan," Zim grumbled, shoving the last of the baggage in the ship, "We're doomed."

"YAAAAAAY!" GIR shrieked, hopping around in his bunny disguise.

"No, GIR, that's bad."

"Awwww."

"Fine," Dib returned, "What's _your_ great plan?"

"My brilliant plan is to figure out a brilliant plan on our way there, now are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, I'm coming. Just getting the last of the water."

The Irken shuddered. "Hyumans and their need to guzzle this filthy poison, I will never understand. GIR! Stop chewing on that bush, we have to go!"

"Master, there's a puppy innit! A big white puppy!"

"Leave the filthy earth-mongrel alone, we have to go." Annoyed, he picked up the squirming robot and dumped him in the ship. Hopping aboard, he waited for Dib, checking the instrument panel. "Are you sure it's in good working order?"

Dib grunted, pulling himself up. "Of course I'm sure, I checked it five times. And _don't_ make some smart remark about me being human and unable to understand Irken technology, I've figured out nearly all the controls."

Zim smirked. "We'll see." As Dib stepped in, the ship tipped backward a bit. Zim raised an antenna. "Weighing more than usual?"

Startled by the shift, Dib mumbled, "What? No, that was weird. Maybe the ship is off balance."

"YAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

"Or maybe GIR's just jumping around," he groused, strapping himself into a seat. "How long till we find the Massive?"

The clear, dome-like shield lowered, sealing them in. "We have to lock on its location first, it could be anywhere in the universe. It all depends on which planet they're trying to conquer, but this ship should have access to the Irken Information Network."

"Will it let us IIN?" Dib quipped.

He was met with a blank stare. "It should, why?"

Dib shook his head. "Nothing, forget it. Would you drop the hologram already? It's creeping me out, and no one will see you where we're going anyway."

"Aren't _you_ demanding today," Zim growled, as the disguise melted away. He pressed a few buttons and pulled back on a lever, easing the ship up into the air. Seconds later, they'd passed through the atmosphere, and were in orbit. Several displays in English lettering popped up. Zim glared at Dib, who shrugged sheepishly. With a few adjustments, Zim had returned the words to Irkish, and scanned through them.

"It seems the Tallests have turned their efforts on the Meekrob. That's two weeks journey with this ship." He sighed, entering coordinates into the autopilot. "Let's hope it's long enough to formulate a proper plan."

Dib chuckled. "Well, with the genius superbaby and the pompous alien working together, there's no way anything could go wrong."

"I am not pomped!"

Dib rolled his eyes. "This is going to be a long two weeks."

"DALMATIONS!!!!!" Shrieked GIR. He dragged a large white bundle from the back by its tail. "I found my white puppy! It's got black spots, see?" He shoved the tail in Dib's face. The boy stared. It was awfully jagged for a tail. The rear was bald, too, so what--

Zim hissed, "Fool! How dare you bring your parental unit, this was not part of the plan!"

Shocked, Dib realized the "tail" GIR was clutching was his father's hair. "GIR, leggo!" He caught the Professor and patted his cheeks, trying to wake the unconscious man. "What did you do?"

GIR grinned. "I patted him on the head!"

Sure enough, Dib found a lump starting to form on the side of his Dad's head. He groaned. "Zim, I didn't bring him, I swear! He must have sneaked on board."

Punching the seat cushion furiously, Zim spat, "We can't take him back! We've left Earth's orbit, and it would take days to fight the momentum we've built up."

Glumly, Dib started dragging his father back toward the rear of the ship. "Well, at least another 'great mind' is aboard. Maybe he'll know what to do."


	8. MADNESS

Zim's eye twitched. It had been doing this for hours now, but that's how long the insanity had been going on. It had started when Professor Membrane woke up, proclaiming that he was Darth Vader, and that Dib was his son.

"Uh, Dad, I knew that." Dib had muttered.

"Dib! My son, come to the dark side!" Membrane let out an evil laugh. "We have cookies."

"Right. Zim, how hard did GIR hit him?"

But Zim hadn't had a chance to answer. Dib's head had suddenly started swelling larger and larger. The human hadn't seemed to notice anything, despite Zim's repeated shrieks that the head would soon explode. Eventually it had--in a way. It had disconnected from Dib's body, and then zoomed around the cabin, releasing air.

"I did dat to a balloon once," GIR giggled.

At the moment, Dib's body was on its hands and knees, attempting to find its rather deflated head, and Professor Membrane was engaged in a monologue about the merits of the dark side of the force.

Sighing, Zim turned and leaned his forehead against the glass viewing dome of the ship. If the ship's interior didn't convince him of his lost sanity, the exterior did.

On the nose of the ship was some species of Earth-fish that was bright purple. Standing on its tail, it clutched a microphone, and sang the word, "Meep!" in several operatic keys. Every now and then, a little green mouse would skitter up to the dome, bang on the glass, and demand to know what Zim had done with its cheese. Beyond shock, Zim merely shook his head and shrugged.

A dozen little jello blobs seemed to be playing a disorganized game of tag, which involved merging with other jello blobs and breaking off again. Collisions occurred frequently, and turned ugly at high velocities.

Zim's mouth moved, much to his displeasure. He clapped his hands over his mouth, but his mouth bit his hands. Once freed, it began singing, chipmunk style, "Chocolate rain. Some stay dry and others feel the pain, chocolate rain."

GIR walked up, eyes wide, and stated in an English accent, "Master, it would seem the author has lost her cookies, or marbles. What shall we do now?"

Zim attempted to answer, but only managed to belt out another refrain of Chocolate Rain.

"What you should have done in the beginning!" Bellowed Membrane. "Search your peelings! I mean feelings!"

Suddenly Dib started crying loudly. "Ow! Ooooooow!! My head bit me! That really hurt!"

Membrane backed Zim into a corner of the ship, leaning in close. In the darkest, most menacing voice he could muster, he whispered, "Do you like waffles?"

Immediately Zim's mouth, much to his chagrin, answered, "Yeah I like waffles."

"Do you like pancakes?"

"Yeah I like pancakes!"

"Do you like French toast?"

"Chocolate rain!"

"INFIDEL!!"

Screaming, Zim ran from the deranged Professor, tripping over Dib's headless body in his attempt to reach the escape hatch. The computer intoned, "Please hold and enjoy the stand-by music." As Zim grasped the handle, the entire ship flashed red, and the speakers blared, "Xenu xenu xenu xenu xenu."

"The madness!!" Zim screamed. "The madness!"

GIR merely shook his head and chewed thoughtfully on a seatrest. "I dare say, the only thing to do is wait out the insanity, what what? Oh, Master, you do know that's the airlock, yes?"

...

**Note: **APRIL FOOLS DAY!! From this point on, disregard this chapter. It didn't happen. It was a joke. Erase it from your memory. Tu cabeza esta una pizarra blanca. Este capitulo nunca sucedió.


	9. Impossible

**Note:** To those of you who allowed me to indulge my insanity on April Fool's Day, thank you. It was a release. Side note to Invader Sideos, trust me, that chapter was not the result of acid. It was, in fact, a product of a naturally random brain. True, I tend toward morbid writing, but I'm heavily influenced by Douglas Adams at this point in my life, and tend to favor scenes featuring the Improbability Drive. If I were REALLY on acid... oh man, RUN FOR THE HILLS!!... And now, back to your regularly scheduled angst. Very short angst this time.

...

"Keeping Dad in suspended animation is stupid!" Dib argued, knocking on the glass tube that held his father. "We need another brain to think up a plan to get in there, and Dad's a genius!"

"Silence! Do not question the brilliance of Zim. First, there is not enough Earth waters and foods for you both on this ship, only for you. Second, Professor Membrane is likely to have found out everything that happened to his forevermate, and, if my analysis of hyuman emotions and reactions are correct, he will be violently antagonistic toward _any_ Irken he meets. This would obviously pose a difficulty for you, seeing as how I'm the only one who knows the general layout of the Massive, and for me, because I don't enjoy the thought of having my neck squeezed flat."

Dib scowled at the floor. "I still don't like it."

Zim shrugged. "I don't care if you like it or not. It's the most logical thing to do. He'll be perfectly safe, and he'll wake up when we return. Irken technology is flawless."

"It had better be," Dib muttered darkly, before turning to Zim. "Alright, we have just over a week and a half. Let's start coming up with _some_ sort of plan."

...

Aboard the Massive, Purple cheered. "You owe me more monies, Red. You still think Zim isn't that stupid, but look!"

Irritated, Red glanced in the direction Purple was pointing, toward the blip on the radars. Still several days distance, but definitely coming in their direction.

"What's with him? The Control Brains let him go because of those meddling hyumans, but he comes back? He's practically begging to die." Red fished in his armor for the monies. "Unless he's bringing back my prize specimen, he'd better be ready for what's coming." An evil grin crossed his face. "After all, even the Control Brains can't argue that he's breaking exile a second time. Who knows, maybe he'll do something really stupid and get himself in real trouble. Drones!" Three service drones rushed to his side, wide-eyed and nervous. "I want you to start preparing the torture chambers, we may be needing them shortly."

...

"I can't believe you talked me into this ridiculous mission, you STUPID hyuman. Do you realize that at this point, whatever we do, we will be killed?" Zim snarled, backing Dib into a corner. "They already know we're here, so if we turn and run, we'll be obliterated by cannon. If we storm the ship, they'll overwhelm us. If we try your idiotic plan, we'll still be overwhelmed. We're doomed!"

Dib licked his lips nervously. "Yeah, I get it, Zim, we're dead meat. It doesn't matter. We have to take Red out."

"Take him out where?!"

"Take him out! Kill him, remove him from power. Even you can't argue that! Whether we make it through this or not, he has to be removed for the good of YOUR race." His hands clenched. "And for mine's revenge."

...

**Note:** I just realized, if I ever took up playwriting, I would be a director/designer's worst nightmare. Elaborate set! Whoops, five minute dialogue, change scene entirely! Short action sequence, snappy dialogue, special effects. Scene change! Main character's inner struggle. Scene change!!


	10. Sacrificed

Note: I have not abandoned this story

**Note:** I have not abandoned this story. I will not abandon this story. I may take months between inspirational bursts of writing, but I will not abandon this story. Now, on with this story.

………………………………

"Let go, alien scum!" Zim's claws gripped the boy's scythed hair, yanking him forward. Dib's wrists, loosely manacled, were limited in movement. He winced, wondering if his hair would come out by the roots. "You won't get away with this, Zim!" He hissed.

"But I already have, foolish earth-being." Zim laughed loudly as he led the hyuman into the Massive's royal reception room, flanked by armed soldiers. Loudly, he crowed, "Once I turn you in to the Tallests, they will forgive my momentary lapse in sanity, and I will return to conquer your spinning ball of filth! With you out of the way, things will be much easier." Puffing his chest out, a particularly hyuman body expression, he added, "And the Control Brains will see I am no Defect now that I've finally conquered my worst enemy."

"Yeah," Dib scowled, "They'll see how it took you five or six years to conquer a 'smeet'."

"Silence!" Zim bellowed, kicking Dib in the ribs—but not too hard. "I will destroy your world, and the Tallests will make you watch, you'll see!"

"We'll make who watch what, Zim?" Red hovered in, arms crossed, with Purple floating right behind him.

Zim's posture straightened, and his antennae wiggled. "My Talests! I have come to deliver to you a hyuman prize. I realize my mistake of having deprived you of a research specimen, and attacking you. Truly then I was worthy of the title 'Defective', but now I bring this worm to you, this worm who tried to assassinate you!" Dramatically, Zim pulled a pistol from his PAK. All lasers trained on him, ready to shoot, but he calmly flipped it in the air, caught it, and set it on the ground. "Foolish creature actually thought he would make it, but I was able to stop him in time."

Red raised an antenna. He glanced at Purple, who shrugged, bewildered. He motioned the soldiers to keep their weapons aimed at Zim, and hovered closer. Leaning over, he snatched Dib's scythe from Zim and yanked him up to eye-level. Dib's eyes watered with pain, but he met Red's stare.

Smirking, Red taunted, "Why did you come back, earthling? To avenge your parental unit?" Dib's eyes burned, his body trembling with hate. "I will say, she certainly was the most amusing of my specimens." Chuckling, he dropped Dib to the ground. Three soldiers grabbed his arms and shoulders, and Red ordered, "Get him to the holding cells, we'll figure out what experiments he'll be good for later."

Hefting Dib to his feet, the soldiers dragged him away. As he passed Zim, his head turned slightly, eyes connecting with the Irken's. Zim's antenna twitched slightly, and he bit his lip. The corner of Dib's mouth lifted, but he snarled, "You stink, Zim."

Zim turned to face the Tallests, radiating expectation. "So, am I pardoned?"

Confused before, Red's expression was priceless at that moment. He glanced back at Purple again, mouthing, "He really _is_ stupid." Turning back to Zim, he hedged, "Well, Zim, this is an exceptional case… Purple and I need to consult the Control Brains, so why don't you stay here and wait? Or go fix your ship, I hear you made quite a crash landing in the airlock."

Zim chuckled, "Oh, yes, that was when the hyuman leaped at me, but I fought him off." Saluting, he turned and walked back toward the docking bay. "Let me know when I'm reinstated to Invader status."

…………………………………………………

_Cold… cold… I can't feel anything. I can't move anything. Am I dead? Of course not, if I were dead, my mind would cease to function, and I know I am thinking. Ah! My fingers twitched… I'm definitely alive. If I can get the rest of my body moving, I can figure out what is happening… or what happened. What happened? I was following my son and his friend… they were packing a strange vehicle. Something about a talking bunny… but that's absurd. Bunnies don't talk. I climbed into the vehicle. It was… flying? Flying! Must have been a prototype of some other scientific company's breakthrough in transportation! Fascinating… but then my son said something to his friend… and the friend turned into that little green child… wait, the little green child was an alien, that was proven—that alien was exiled for violent behavior! What is my son doing with him? Or more importantly, what is he doing with my son? He's kidnapped my son, hasn't he? He's taking him to his leaders… the ones that… Gloria…_

Professor Membrane gasped deeply, sucking air into his lungs. Leaning against the glass tube, he counted prime numbers to stay conscious. His arms moved, but his legs were still stiff. Glancing around, he saw the interior of the ship as he'd seen it moments before the bunny had hit his head. _Stop thinking about the bunny, that's absurd._ The controls smoked slightly, and the screens were blank. Part of the hull had caved in, and a jagged shard of metal had smashed a set of controls near the tube he was trapped in. The only other occupant was a young boy of about 12, with blond hair. He was laughing as he repeatedly threw a rubber piggy against the wall.

"Excuse me? Little boy?"

The boy stopped, and stared at him. "Oooooh, you's th' one they made sleep. You're not s'posed to be wakey."

Ignoring the babyish speech, he croaked, "I need to get out of here, can you get me out?"

"Okee dokee!" The boy chirped. Standing, he hopped over to the tube, pulled back his fist, and smashed it through the glass. Shouting in fright, the Professor stumbled back, then stared at the boy's fist. Not a single cut or bruise showed. The boy skipped back over to his spot, then started throwing the piggy again.

Gingerly, Membrane maneuvered himself through the hole, tearing his coat in the process. Footsteps echoed outside. Panicking, he darted to the back of the ship and ducked behind a set of electronic panels. Peering around the corner, he caught sight of the alien marching into the ship.

"GIR, stop throwing that piggy, I need your help to fix this ship. And get rid of that disguise, they'll think you're hyuman."

The boy's frame melted away, revealing a knee-high metal robot with cyan eyes. "Yes Master! We gonna fix th' dooky-ship?"

Sighing, the alien nodded. Extending several metal rods from the device on its back, it proceeded to stand on them to reach higher spots. Pulling other tools from the device, the alien began repairing the hull.

"Actually, GIR, I need you to go make sure the Dib is in prison 383-jx9. Stay there until I give the signal." His eyes narrowed. "Then we will destroy him together."

"Yaaaaaaaaaay!" GIR squealed. Grinning, he walked toward the door. Desperately, Membrane glanced around, and spotted the emergency exit, further back. Dashing over, he pushed the button, and escaped as the door slid open. GIR had just passed the exit, and Membrane allowed some distance before following, his coat pulled up to cover his head and hair.

…………………………………………………………………..

The confidence Zim had forced earlier vanished the moment he left the watchful stare of the soldiers. They still guarded the entrance to the ship, but a measure of privacy was allowed, and Zim was shaken. He began repairs on his ship, then sent GIR to be with Dib. Someone had to be with him to ensure that destruction was carried out according to plan.

A tool slipped through his claws. Muttering in frustration, he turned to pick it up when he spotted the chamber. Someone had smashed the tube, and the Professor was missing.


	11. Betrayed

Dib sat in the middle of the cell, annoyed that he couldn't lean on a wall. Irken holding cells, apparently, consisted of a floor, ceiling, and a circular force field that delivered a painful jolt on contact. Nine other cells lined his side of the room, and ten covered the other side. The room itself was bare, poorly lit, and devoid of guards. One or two creatures jeered at him from nearby cells, and he counted himself lucky to have gotten a cell to himself. Crossing his legs and leaning forward, chin in his hands, he waited for GIR.

He didn't have to wait long. The insane little SIR unit marched through the door, looking for all the world like he had something important to do. The moment the door had closed, he collapsed into a giggling fit. "I fooled 'em, I joked 'em!" He sat up, sticking his tongue out through his smile. "I want cookies, you got cookies big-headed boy?"

Grimacing, Dib replied, "No, not now, but if you do what I say, I'll give you lots of cookies if—when—we get back."

"Okeedokee!" GIR chirped, rolling along the floor, over toward Dib's cell.

"First, can you open this?"

GIR opened his mouth and clamped down on the wall of the force field. The electric shock threw him across the room and into another cell. He pulled himself up, eyes red. "Danger! Enemy seeking to destroy… must destroy enemy!" With a sort of war-cry, he charged at Dib's cell, a barrage of lasers bursting out of his head.

Dib's eyes widened as he flattened himself to the floor. "Oh cra—"

"READY!" GIR fired off several blasts at the cell. Electric charges surged to counter the blasts, only to be deflected back to their source. Upper and lower outlets sparked, sending out smoke as they sputtered. The barrier wavered, then died with a slow grind down. GIR's eyes faded back to cyan, and he clapped his hands, grinning. "Big boom! Cookies now?"

Trembling, Dib pushed himself up from the floor. "L-later GIR, remember, you have to h-help me. C-come here."

Standing, GIR toddled forward. A white blast of light slammed into him from the side, blasting him into the far wall where he collapsed in a little gray-eyed heap.

"GIR!" Dib shouted, then turned to see what had just burst through the door. "Dad?!"

The Professor had used the weapons system wired through his labcoat. Dib had only seen him use it once, when he'd gotten carried away with his salvation of the Earth. He'd blown a hole in the door, instead of opening it for his children.

"Dad, what are you doing?" Dib turned and started toward the bot, but Membrane gripped his shoulder.

"Son, we're getting out of here. I heard that alien, I know he kidnapped us. It's alright, I'll get us out of here."

"What? Dad—"

"Sh! Now listen, I know the way back to the ship he used, and we can sneak on board when he's off and fly back home. I can figure out how it works as we go along."

"You don't—"

"We have to make sure he's off, or dead, I don't care which, but I am getting you out of here alive and in one piece." He jerked Dib over to the doorway, pressing himself against the wall next to the opening, eyes focused on the hall outside.

"Stop, Dad, we're—"

"Escaping, son, escaping. This is no time for your insane ideas of grandeur, we're not saving the world right now. We're saving ourselves, and that's enough."

"Dad!"

"I'm sorry son, but it has to be this way." Membrane glanced over to him briefly, his goggles glowing in the flickering light. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Dib's mouth opened, but nothing came out. _Dad… Dad wants to protect me? He got this far with no plan except to break me free?_ His eyes stung as Membrane looked back toward the corridor.

Swallowing hard, Dib forced his voice to work. "Dad, I have to tell you something, this isn't—"

"Not now, son!" With more force than Dib ever thought he had, Membrane pulled Dib out the door and down the hall, his free hand outstretched to blast any alien that got in his way.

……………………………………………..

Zim scowled at the hull. It was nowhere near the state it should be in, but it would hold for the return to Earth. He began cleaning up the mess of glass and smashed circuitry around the ship, hoping the Professor hadn't done anything stupid, and that if he had, it wouldn't endanger the mission.

Strong hands seized his arms, dragging him out of the ship. Shocked, he growled, "Release me, idiots, release—" A hand wrapped around his antennae and jerked, silencing him. He twisted his neck back to see who his captor was, and groaned at the sight of three Irken soldiers. _Something went wrong, or the Tallests didn't believe my story._ His mind scrambled to find a solution to the situation, if there was a situation. A slim chance stated that Zim was worried for nothing, but it was quickly shoved aside as wrist restraints locked firmly around his wrists, behind his back. Panic gnawed at his spooch.

Abruptly he was thrown to the ground, landing painfully on his PAK. Twisting around into an upright position, he faced the Tallests. Falling into his insane role, he shouted, "What is this? I thought we had an understanding!"

Red's eyes gleamed. "The only understanding we have, Zim, is that the holding cells have been breached, and there's a trail of dead drones leading away from it."

Zim's eyes widened slightly. That was never part of the plan.

A drone staggered in, his left arm and part of his side blown away. "My… My Tallests… ship… his ship… leaving…" The drone collapsed, his PAK's glow dying out.

Red's mouth curled in a savage grin. "So, Zim, tell me… which would be the worse shock: Having your ship stolen by an enemy, or having your ship stolen by an accomplice who obviously planned to betray you?"

Zim's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. A tech-drone interrupted, urgently pointing at a screen. "My Tallests, the ship has pinpointed a wormhole and is nearly there, your orders!"

Purple cheered, "Blast 'em to bits!"

"No," Red grinned, "Let them go. Let this Defect know that they return to their happy lives, laughing all the way home at his idiocy." He turned away from Zim, ordering, "Take him to a debriefing room and check his PAK. I want every memory from the time we sent him to Earth up to now."

"No!" Zim hissed, struggling against the soldiers. "No, you will not, don't you dare!"

"Why, Zim, do you have something to hide?" Red shook his head. "Do it. I want the results in three hours."


	12. Mekrelmar

Dib gave up. Nothing he said could convince his father that he hadn't been brainwashed and kidnapped. The one time he'd gone near the control panels to direct them back toward the ship, Membrane had jerked him away, correcting the path to lead back home. He sat in front of a smaller bank of monitors, searching what Zim called the Irken Information Network, hoping to find something.

…………………………………………..

_You are numb. Do not feel. Do not scream. Do not react._

Zim mumbled this to himself, shutting out the fatigue in his legs, the chafing of his ankles. He found it ironic that a race as advanced as his held to such primitive torture tactics. At the moment, he was in a room with walls formed from some sort of cement or concrete. From the center of the room, a metal cylinder sprouted, roughly six earth feet across and ten high. A single horizontal pole extended near the top, and at the end of the pole hung a set of chains. Zim's ankles had been shackled to these shortly after his PAK debriefing, hours before.

It had been a humiliating ordeal, every failure and weakness exposed and prodded at all over again. It was worse than what the Dib had done, after all, tech drones knew every wire and circuit of a PAK. Not a single memory could be hidden if a trained expert knew how to search properly.

A grinding sound pulled Zim from his thoughts. Something inside the cylinder clanged, and it began to rotate, leisurely. He frowned, confused. _Do they intend to make me sick with dizziness? _He chuckled nervously, then winced, the motion emphasizing all the blood that had rushed to his head. His antennae throbbed as the rotation began to move faster. The chains swung out a little further, and Zim realized the purpose of the machine. By the next pass, he had calculated that there was nothing he could do about it.

As the machine twirled faster and faster, the cycle spun Zim at the end of the chain, and each pass landed him head-first into the closest wall. The first time he closed his eyes and tensed for impact, his skull slamming into the concrete with a resounding crack. One antenna snapped, twisting in an unnatural position, and green blood splattered the wall. On the second pass, he was too stunned to prepare, and his upper body hit the wall with a wet splat, momentum scraping him across it.

No single coherent thought remained in Zim's head. He opened his mouth and screamed, sure that not a single bone in his body had escaped the shattering force. The third pass left him in a blissfully unconscious state. The machine ground to a stop, Zim's body bouncing at the end of the chains like an obscene toy. The shackles opened, dropping him to the floor as medical drones entered with a stretcher. This prisoner had to be kept alive, and must be deemed fit and fully healed before each torture, the Tallest had ordered. This prisoner deserved to have a perfect sensory range with which to experience his demise.

…………………………………………..

One and a half weeks of searching, and Dib had nothing to show for it but exhaustion and irritation. The only leads he'd had about Zim were snippets of hushed gossip that the Tallests were planning a special spectacle for the public, displaying a recently captured traitor in all his punishment. The spectacle was scheduled to occur in about two hours, and Dib was desperate. He'd tried every possible route hacking could offer to get more information on Zim and the chances of getting him out, but he didn't understand enough Irkish to slide through the systems.

Running his hand through his limp scythe, he mumbled, "Della is going to kill me…"

…………………………………………..

Red eyed the crowd with contempt. "Mindless clones. They'd cheer if we told them we were going to melt all their heads."

Purple raised a slurpee in toast, grinning. "Gotta love 'em!"

Rolling his eyes, Red approached the balcony that overlooked the gathering of Irkens. Any Irken within ten days' travel had been ordered to come, and a live broadcast had been patched into the INN, ensuring any Irken that had a PAK would know what was happening. Raising his arms, he cleared his throat. Excited murmurs hushed as thousands of shining eyes waited, expectantly.

"Fellow Irken soldiers," Red began, "You've all heard the rumors about the traitor recently captured. For the past ten days we have thoroughly interrogated him on every activity he has engaged in for the past five years." Smirking, Red motioned to a tech drone, who manipulated some controls. Behind Red, a huge screen lowered. "We can't show you every moment of those five years, but we would like to point out the highlights of this failed Invader's career."

…………………………………………..

Dib bolted up in his chair. "Dad! Dad, come here, look!" He pointed at the screen as Red signaled the drone. "I think they're talking about Zim!"

"Please, son. Stop talking about that creature, it's a menace."

…………………………………………..

Zim driving a planet through an asteroid belt. Zim being attacked by babies. Zim creating an imitation of Santa so powerful that it absorbed him. Zim wearing a meat suit. Zim's stupid disguise. Zim trashing his own base. Failed plan after failed plan flashed across the screen, each eliciting a ripple of laughter from the crowd. A few of the braver ones began calling out names.

"Crazy!"

"Defect!"

"Spooch-for-brains!"

"What brains? He has none!"

Red smirked, watching the images. The worst was yet to come.

…………………………………………..

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about, Zim was trying to help!"

"No he wasn't, he planned to destroy you! I heard him with my own ears!"

"We were planning to destroy Red, and part of the plan was that I'd get sent to their prisons so Zim wouldn't be so suspicious!"

"That's what he wanted you to believe!"

Dib clenched his hand into a fist. "I know Zim better than you'll ever know me, and I know he wouldn't do that! Even when he was trying to destroy the Earth, he made sure to keep his honor, he wouldn't stoop to something like this!"

…………………………………………..

Zim spouting treason at the Tallests, cursing and insulting them in the worst ways. Zim letting his emotions take over, allowing himself to be caught. Zim poked and prodded by hyumans. Zim's curiosity at the female smeets labeled "Mikko" and "Tiana". Zim's inability to keep a mere hyuman smeet from poking through his PAK. Zim rescuing a worthless hyuman smeet. Zim crying like a smeet. Zim clinging to a hyuman female, calling her "Maneem". Zim planning on assassinating Tallest Red with a hyuman.

With each scene, the crowd's murmurs became louder and angrier. An Irken treating any other race as equal? Worse, as _family_? The concept of familial bonds was, to cloned Irkens, both foreign and sacred, something only to be bestowed on one's most trusted peers. A hyuman?

"Mekrelmar!" Shrieked a voice from the crowd.

The Tallests make mistakes, of course, but murdering them? And he'd already destroyed two others. He'd destroy their entire society if he could!

"Mekrelmar!" A dozen or so screamed.

No Invader who showed that kind of emotion could be tolerated. Emotion lead to insanity, and it put the entire Irken race at risk. Anyone could be subject to the whims of a deranged Defective.

"Mekrelmar!" The crowd roared, hissing and foaming.

Red grinned. He had them right where he wanted.

…………………………………………..

Membrane stared at the screen. He didn't want to see. He didn't want to know. They were all evil, all menaces. They all looked alike, all acted alike, there were no individuals among them. Yet, as one, they all seemed to be in a rage over this one Irken… was it possible he had been wrong?

No, he was Professor Membrane, world's greatest scientist. He was never wrong.

But then, how many times had he declared that aliens never existed in the first place?

…………………………………………..

Every cell in Zim's body screamed for relief, any kind of relief. Over the past ten days he had been dragged through water, beaten to the point of death, and had electric currents sent through him. These had been the lesser tortures. Both antennae hung crookedly from his head, which lolled to the side. Dimly, he registered Red's voice from somewhere above him, saying his name.

Up. The move was sudden, bringing Zim to his knees. He'd been left on a circular platform in a dark room and told to stand there. Now that platform hovered toward a hole that had opened in the ceiling. As he rose through it, he took in his surroundings. Nearby, Red stretched a hand toward him, as if introducing him. Behind him, Purple lounged on a hoverlift. Out in front of him stretched a sea of green faces and glistening antennae. Every eye locked on him, and every mouth moved. He couldn't make out what they were yelling.

Pain… claws jerked him up by his antennae, and Red's voice bellowed, "Never yet in the history of Irk have we had to use this title. It was meant to define a low to which no Irken would ever sink. Yet today, fellow Irkens, this title is put into effect."

Red pressed a button on his armor, and a transparent sheen enveloped his right claws. A drone approached, solemnly bearing a container of some sort. Red dipped his claws in it, then turned and pressed them into Zim's forehead.

Burning, fire, the liquid burned! It wasn't water, water didn't feel this bad. It had to have some other chemical compound in it… _Someone is screaming, who is screaming? It feels like he's engraving something in my skull._

The claws withdrew, leaving the burning sensation spread across his forehead.

"People of Irk!" Red announced. "I give you our very first Mekrelmar, Zim!"

Shock hit Zim like ice, leaving him gasping for air. _Mekrelmar? Great Tallests no…._

…………………………………………..

Dib watched in horrified fascination as Red used his claws to carve something in Zim's forehead. As the computer translated Red's speech, Dib raised a hand to stop it.

"Computer, what is this word, mekrelmar?"

**No direct English translation exists for Mekrelmar, but it is a title reserved for the lowest of the low, worse than insane, worse than defective. It means the recipient is the worst sort of traitorous scum in any known history of Irk, that he or she should never have been born or should have been slaughtered horribly at birth. That—**

"Yeah," Dib swallowed hard, "I get it, it's bad. What's that on his forehead?"

**A permanent brand of the word Mekrelmar.**

Dib put his face in his hands, clenching his eyes tightly. "I'm so sorry Zim…"

**Note:** Sorry if there are errors or typos, it's 2 in the morning and I'm too tired to proof this… not like I proof my chapters anyway. Heheheh.


	13. Exchange

Note: I'm sorry, I know I haven't been around lately

**Note:** I'm sorry, I know I haven't been around lately. There's been a move, hectic, and finding a job, hectic, and unpacking, a slightly more soothing activity. I hit a sort of block. I know where I want this story to go, I just have some trouble getting it to go that way. Getting it down isn't always the easiest, especially when I'm trying to avoid clichés and marysues. By the way, if I EVER do marysue, please I beg you to let me know. Sometimes I can't catch it in my own work, but I try to make my original characters real.

………………………………………………………………………………

Almighty Tallest Red grinned at the pathetic heap of flesh at his feet. Only a day after the pronouncement of Zim's new title, and the final judgment awaited the press of a button. Purple had opted to stay behind and inspect the new shipment of snacks. Red had dismissed him. Purple never enjoyed this part of being Tallest, while Red reveled in the power.

Nodding to a tech drone, he sat himself straight in his hoverchair. The drones jumped to work, pressing buttons and entering long strings of characters on complex machinery. In moments, a red-eyed silhouette appeared on the screen.

"Agent Darkbooty here. Who is this?"

"Almighty Tallest Red."

The silhouette's eyes widened, and the head dipped forward. "Tallest Red. You haven't contacted us in over ten years. What can I do for you?"

"It's time we made another trade." Red nodded at the mass near his feet. "His name is Zim. He's been nothing but trouble for us. I'm sure you'll find some use for him."

Darkbooty's eyes lit up. "Indeed. The previous specimen died within three years. We hoped to have custody of this one through the courts, but nothing good came of that. Did you have a specific human in mind, or a random abduction, like last time?"

"Actually," Red smiled, "I'd like this hyuman." A flick of the wrist triggered an image on the screen, pulled from Zim's PAK. "Her information will be sent to you shortly. I will expect her in the teleporter two hours from now."

Darkbooty studied the image, then nodded. "Done. In two hours, she'll be yours."

Red leaned forward, folding his claws together. "Also, while you're at it, I'll throw in a second one if you bring the specimen from last time."

Hesitating, Darkbooty hedged, "It will be more difficult. Her husband hovers over her more than before." His voice steadied. "But we will manage. And this other specimen is?"

"Skoodge." Red nodded to have the other Irken brought forward.

"Excellent. Everything will be ready in two hours."

……………………………………………………………………………

Gloria groaned, putting a hand to her head. It throbbed dully, and her stomach churned. She opened her eyes to a dim, rectangular room with an eerie greenish cast. It lurched forward, and she braced against the floor. The smell of diesel seeped in, and a glance at the far end of the room confirmed her suspicion. Truck doors.

A small form huddled by the doors, shaking. Cautiously, she moved toward it, holding out a hand. "Hello? Who are you? Do you know what happened?"

The face whipped up, eyes darting wildly around. Gloria sucked in a breath, recognizing Mikko. "Mikko! What happened?"

The girl's face crumpled, and she began to cry. "Who are you? What you want?"

Confused, Gloria paused. Mikko's eyes continued moving, looking everywhere but at her. It dawned on her that there was no light in the truck, and that her mechanical eyes had slipped into a sort of night vision.

She crawled forward, calling, "Mikko, it's me. Gloria. Dib's mother. You didn't see who did this?"

Mikko uncurled and moved toward the voice. "Mrs. Membrane, where are you?"

"Here." Gloria reached out and touched her shoulder. Mikko started, then grabbed onto the hand, clinging to it with the desperation of the drowning. Gloria drew her into an embrace. "It's okay, we'll be alright. We'll figure a way out."

"There isn't one," Mikko sobbed. "I pushed the door, it's locked. They got us, I don't know what they want."

"Did you see them?" She shook her head, trying to clear her head. "I didn't see their faces, just a cloth over my face and a smell."

"I saw." Mikko buried her face in Gloria's shoulder. "Men hiding faces. The car, it had eye on the side." Her sentences began breaking down. "Big, blue eye, staring. What it mean?"

Gloria stared at the wall, an icy feeling gripping her chest. The words dragged her back through the darkness, through the terror, to the beginning. Her mouth formed the words, "The Swollen Eyeball," and she began to scream.

……………………………………………………………………………….

Time did not exist. There was only pain. Pain in every particle of his body, and pain on the inside where no part could be labeled. His mind turned over and over on the word that seared across his forehead and shattered his identity.

Mekrelmar.

Vaguely he registered some sort of conversation about himself, but he didn't care. Caring asked too much of him. There was only surviving from second to second, wondering when it would end.

Eventually, hands—not claws—pulled him up. His eyes shifted tiredly and his mind recognized he was staring at a human. The hands jerked his chin up and poked his antennae, but he didn't react.

Two voices rose and fell in the background, one shrilling hysterically, and the other saying a word over and over. His head lolled to the side, and he saw.

Gloria Membrane and Mikko stood at laser-point. The screaming came from Gloria. She clutched Mikko's shoulders as Mikko threw herself forward, arms stretched out, mouth shouting a word. Dimly, he realized it was his name. He didn't understand. Why were they there?

"NO!" He came alive, slashing out with his claws. There could be only one reason why Mrs. Membrane was here, and if Mikko was with her, then the same reason applied. An exchange. He howled at the hands holding him down. "TRAITORS! YOU BETRAY YOUR OWN KIND! YOU SCUM! THEY DID NOTHING, RELEASE THEM!"

The hyumans holding him seemed to duck their heads and look away, but he was jerked backward. He heard a clicking sound, and knew sleepcuffs were being opened. The last thing he saw before the darkness took him was Mikko, reaching toward him, screaming.


	14. Telephone

**Note: **I have been informed that if I do not update sooner, I will die a horrible death. I do not wish to die a horrible death, especially since I finally have a summer job. Therefore I will update again. Just know, I've said it before, I'll say it again. I will not abandon this fic. Sometimes it's just months between inspirations.

……………………………………………………………..

Zim shivered. He couldn't remember a more frightening time, short of the Morflar punishment. Locked in a small, steel cage that barely allowed him to stand, he crouched, shivering. The sickly sap smell of Irken blood permeated the room, and curdling shrills of agony echoed from another room. They'd left the door open on purpose. They wanted to measure emotional responses. He'd almost laughed when he'd heard that. They were trying to gage the emotional response of the most defective Irken in existence. Their data would be worthless measured against a normal Irken.

He tried to control his shivering, but the screams assaulted his antennae. They'd taken Skoodge upon their arrival via teleporter. Guilt overcame the feeling of relief that he'd not been chosen as the first test subject, but he quickly pushed it aside. This was survival, and in situations like this, guilt could kill.

…………………………………………………………………….

Stumbling from the smoking ruins of the Voot, Professor Membrane fell to his knees and pressed his face to the ground. _I will never, ever fly in one of these again._ Dib's distressed complaints about the condition of the Voot were lost on him, all he could feel was elation at being back on Earth. His first thought was to see Gloria. Though he felt bad about leaving the little alien behind, he felt sure that Dib would see that, in the long run, it was for the best. Besides, now that there were no aliens on the planet anymore, maybe Gloria would stop having nightmares.

He turned to his house and lifted his arms. "My Glory! I'm ho…." His joyful greeting trailed off. "Dib… did the landing damage the front of the house?"

From inside the pod, Dib's voice growled, "No, from what I can tell we didn't even reach the garage. Why?"

Membrane's voice shook a little. "Something's wrong." He didn't wait for Dib to respond. His feet carried him forward. Past the door swinging on its hinges. Over muddy footprints stamped on the tile. Through the cloudy scent of chloroform. His feet brought him to the kitchen table where Gloria's journal lay open, a pen draped across its pages. The chair had been overturned.

Footsteps rushed by him, hurtling up the stairs. All he could do was stare. Vaguely, he heard Dib pounding on a door upstairs, and a responding shout of anger that was cut off in surprise. He realized Gaz was there, and unharmed. An irrational anger swept him. She had probably been playing her stupid game and hadn't even heard anything. For half a second, he wished it had been her instead of Gloria.

The jangling of the phone brought him to his senses. He snatched it up, frantically. "Hello? Hello?"

The caller paused, as if surprised by who had picked up the phone. Then a scratchy voice answered, "Hello, this is the, uh, Skool teacher. I need to speak with Dib."

Disappointed, Membrane called Dib and set the phone down.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Hanging up, Dib felt his stomach drop. Agent Darkbooty had explained that two aliens had been sent to them, and that one of them was the one Dib had worked so hard to expose. He'd been invited to come to the vivisection and the recognition celebration afterward.

How they'd retrieved Zim, he had no idea. He'd have to tap into the system to find out, since it was classified. Part of him thanked God that Zim was in reach instead of across the galaxy, but the other part realized that the chances of springing Zim from the Eyeballs were slim. Zim had already broken in and out of there once, and they'd surely tightened security. The only advantage he had was that, apparently, they had no idea he and Zim had come to a sort of friendship, or they wouldn't have told him.

He had three hours before the vivisection began. Cracking his knuckles, he pulled out his laptop. He'd need every second to work out a plan.

As he worked through cracks and holes in the old computer system, a file caught his eye. He'd scanned his own files a few times when he'd needed to know the status of his reports on Zim, but this file, this "MBRANE" wasn't anywhere near his records. It was in a classified section, and it had been updated that day. Glancing at the clock, he set a program to crack the file as he continued to search for anything that could help. He chuckled to himself. "Irk knows I'll need it."


	15. Allergic

Zim clenched his claws to control his trembling. Part of surviving was never showing fear. He glared viciously at the scientists around him, hoping his quivering antennae wouldn't give him away.

He could feel the cold steel on his back. They'd stripped off his sweater to make access to his organs easier. They'd gotten excited over the thick network of scars covering his hide and had fired questions at him. He'd refused to answer, scowling at them. When they tired of being ignored, they'd stunned him and locked him down on an operating table. A hole had been drilled for his PAK so he could lie flat, then his wrists and ankles had been clamped to the table. Two straps anchored him so he couldn't thrash.

For a while, they'd just walked around, making notes on bits of paper and looking at the clock. After a while, one muttered, "We can't wait for Mothman any longer. We'll just let him in when he comes."

Another nodded and picked up a scalpel and forceps. Zim's heart thudded harder, it's four-beat rhythm a staccato thundering in his head. The cold metal touched his skin as a hand rested on his chest to steady the instrument. The alien's lips parted in a plea which was quickly sucked back into a gasp. The blade slipped through his skin and slid cleanly down the length of his torso. A cross cut at the top and base of the opening completed the act as the pain began to register. With forceps, the man peeled back the skin and examined the throbbing, pulsing organs.

A hand reached in, prodding. Zim's mouth hung open as his muscles spasmed. His body protested the intrusion. Though one of the lesser pains he'd experienced in his life, the sense of violation, of being probed and touched where no creature should have to feel such things, shot through him. The hand was _other._ It must be expelled.

The straps were strong, and the clasps held. No amount of struggling could loosen them, and more of his blood oozed from the wound, spilling onto the ground. His eyes rolled around the room, silently pleading. The humans only peered intently at his guts, and more hands reached in.

A voice at the end of the room hailed the entrance of Mothman. Zim's eyes locked on Dib. The boy seemed to have aged twenty earth-years since Zim had last seen him, his expression frightened Zim. The normally gentle, quick brown eyes were ringed with red and burned with hate. His trademark trench coat was rumpled, its collar pulled up, and his boot-laces trailed behind his forceful steps.

Choking, Zim opened his mouth. "Dib… help…"

Dib bowled through the agents, shouting, "You idiots! Do you have any idea what you've done?" A roomful of eyes stared at Dib, taken aback. "The alien is allergic to steel! You put him on a steel table with steel restraints and cut him open with steel instruments? What sort of scientists are you? If you'd have waited, I would have been able to tell you!"

Stammered apologies circled the room, but Dib interrupted. "Get a needle made from some hard plastic or something, and sew this mess up. When you're done, I want to see him in a proper containment unit, not," he glared menacingly, "A steel cage. Alert me when you're done. I'll see to treating his reaction." With that, he whirled from the room, his trench coat flaring after him.

……………………………………………………………………………

The clock hands moved too slowly. By the time the agents ushered Dib into a small white room, his eye was twitching and his hands continually clenched and unclenched.

"We haven't been able to get a secure containment unit yet," an agent apologized, "So we're keeping him here."

"Leave me to check him," he ordered. The agent meekly backed out and closed the door.

Zim lay on a simple white cot, draped with a white blanket. His already smallish frame seemed dwarfed by the all-consuming lack of color. The Irken's body shook, and his eyes clenched tightly.

Dib knelt by the cot and felt Zim's forehead, feeling foolish. He didn't know an Irken's body temperature. Peering under the cover, he saw fresh bandages wrapped around Zim's middle, and a green stain seeping through.

Gently slapping Zim's face, Dib whispered, "Hey, Zim. Spaceboy, wake up. We don't have a lot of time." To his shock, the alien's claws darted out and clutched at his arms. Dib blinked as he took in Zim's panicky expression.

"Don't," Zim croaked, "Don't let them get me… help… help Zim… please."

Dib's mouth hung open. He'd seen Zim in several different emotional states over the last few years, but never before had the Irken stooped to begging for his help. He'd grudgingly asked, and demanded help on some occasions, but never begged.

Gripping one of Zim's hands, he promised, "I'm getting you out of here. Don't worry." Disengaging Zim's grip, he strode to the door and opened it, calling, "Get me whoever acquired the alien."

When Darkbooty hurried up the hallway, Dib's eyes narrowed. _So much for being my friend and mentor. So, you were in on it too._ Aloud, he grated out, "Agent Darkbooty, the alien's vitals are failing due to the incompetence in the operation room. I have equipment at my house that can save the specimen." He held up his hand to cut off the inevitable protest. "Unless you want to lose the specimen, you don't have a choice." Without waiting for a response, he turned and scooped up his traumatized friend. "I'll return him when he's stable."

His boots clicked down the hall as Agent Darkbooty stared after them. By the time he reached the door, Dib's walk had sped to a run as he raced home. Time was slipping away, and there was so much to prepare.


	16. Enclosed

Mikko's shoulders ached where Mrs. Membrane had gripped them. She was confused, taken from the cold cell at the Swollen Eyeball Building and shoved into a beam of light that, somehow, had brought her to this strange place with Zim's kind. She'd only gotten to see Zim for a few moments, but he'd looked awful. There was something on his forehead, and he acted like a rag doll until he'd caught sight of her. Then he'd thrashed and screamed, and she found she was screaming too. He, along with the two or three Swollen Eyeball representatives, had disappeared back into the beam of light, and Irkens had surrounded the two of them.

She tried to move, but the upright capsule she'd been placed in had formed to her body, holding her in position. Despite this, she continued to try lifting her arms so she could cross them over her chest. The Irken soldiers had stripped her and Mrs. Membrane, and the sense of naked vulnerability frightened her.

A small hole opened over the nose and mouth, presumably for food, breathing, and speaking. She rolled her eyes to the side, and was barely able to see Mrs. Membrane, enclosed in the capsule next to her, moaning. To her other side lay an indistinct gray form she couldn't identify. She'd tried speaking with it, but got nothing except a garbled sob. Now she mustered her most confident voice.

"It's okay. Mrs. Membrane. Zim will get help. He'll get Dib, they'll free us."

"No," came the moan. "No, no. No one can see in the darkness. No one can feel through the pain. Death, in cruelty, abandons this place."

"What are you saying? We'll get out."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" The new voice drew her attention forward. One of the Irkens she'd seen earlier, the tall one that almost looked like Zim, stood in front of her. Three long claws snaked out and rested on the surface of the pod where her cheek was. She felt nothing through the material, but shuddered under the touch.

"Yes, I want us out! And I want our clothes!"

The red Irken laughed as if she'd made a funny joke. His hand moved down and, to her horror, began tracing the curves of her body, always moving down. "Stop!" She shrieked, mortified. "Don't touch me!"

His claws paused as he smirked at her. "I'm not touching you. At least, not yet." He turned to Gloria, laying a hand on her chest. "Isn't that right, hyuman female?"

A choked cry sounded from the pod as Red's smirk became a leer. "I do believe this will be a wonderful reunion, and a welcome to our newest specimen." He turned to the squad following him. "I want them prepared and sent to my chambers this evening. Actually, just the younger one. I will have a separate meeting with the older one."

Frantically, she searched the Irken's face for any sign of a joke, and her terror grew as she began to understand her situation, and her chances of rescue.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

"Be careful, don't hold him so tight!" Ignoring the warning on Tom's face, Dib tried to keep Della from smothering the small, unconscious form on the couch. "Don't wake him, he's healing. That thing on his back is working on him."

"Working on him? What happened? Why does he need working on? Where have you been? Why won't he wake up?"

"He was caught by his people and tortured, then used in a prisoner exchange and vivisected. I was with him, then I was forcefully separated." He shot a glare at his father, who stood behind him. Membrane's face still held a lost expression, and he turned his head from side to side, as if confused by his surroundings. "And he won't wake up because his PAK is healing him, like I said."

"But he has to wake up… he'll be alright, won't he? And you said you knew something about Mikko, what happened? We haven't been able to find her! Tiana came home from Skool without her, and we've had no word and she usually calls if she's going over to a friends and when she didn't I couldn't think what could be keeping her so long…" Her frantic questions trailed off as Tom's hand closed gently on her shoulder.

"We're both worried," he said gravely. "Please, don't keep us waiting."

With a deep breath, Dib began. "I was told the Swollen Eyeball had Zim, and they invited me to come. I decided to check and see what I could find out to help me once I got in, and I found a secure file that said 'Membrane'. It had been updated very recently, and I was curious, so I hacked it." His brows began pulling together, and downward. "It started as an old file ten or so years ago. The Swollen Eyeball had been able to make alien contact, and they were falling over themselves to get samples or specimens. The aliens suggested a trade, an Irken for a human. The human had to be female. God only knows why they picked Mom, but they did. She wouldn't let go of me, so I was brought too. Eventually the Irkens sent me back, but kept Mom. Up until recently, she was," his lips curled in sarcasm, "their prize specimen. The hybrid breeding program, apparently, rested on her and one of the leaders. She never volunteered. Zim and I rescued her a couple years ago… well, you two were there to hear part of that. But they got Zim again, and traded him to the Eyeballs. According to the file, they needed two specific people who were requested." He breathed deeply again. "Mikko and my Mom."

Tom's face froze. "Wait… they have Mikko? In some sort of breeding program?"

Della dropped to her knees beside Zim, grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him back and forth. "Wake up! You have to wake up, you have to! You have to!"

Zim's head jerked back and forth. His PAK let out a warning blat, then went silent. Bloodred eyes shot open and stared wildly. His first conscious gasp declared, "Mikko… Red has Mikko! And Mrs. Membrane… oh Irk, we don't have time! We don't have time!"


	17. Loyalties

**Note:** I know it's been almost a year since I've updated this fic, and I apologize. I hit a major writer's block, mostly because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to think up anything else original. But I always intended to come back and finish this fic. You can all thank NeonSugar for kicking my butt in gear with friendly nagging. I'm not sure how good this is going to be, but I owe it to you all to try.

"There's got to be another way!" Zim's antennae pressed flat against his skull as his claws clutched at the edges of the plastic gurney he was strapped to. Dib stopped pushing for a minute and lifted the sheet.

"Zim. Look at me."

Two frightened red orbs fixed on him.

"Traveling by ship will take too long. Three weeks will go by. Red will do horrible things to Mikko and my Mom."

The eyes shifted away.

"Zim."

Back again.

"They have a teleporter here at the Eyeball if you're right. It'll get us there right away." Dib put a hand on Zim's shoulder. I promise I won't let them hurt you again."

Zim swallowed hard and managed a weak grin. "Della would separate your skin from your body, Earth-smell."

The corner of Dib's mouth twitched up. "Whatever, spaceboy. Make a fuss, would you? They'll be suspicious."

Zim nodded as Dib dropped the sheet again. Arching his back he howled, raining curses down on Dib and all the hyuman race. He winced at the still-healing scar down his torso, but continued his pitched tirade.

Dib shoved him through the doors of the Swollen Eyeball Headquarters, looking irritated. Agent Darkbooty was waiting.

"Did you do what needed to be done for the specimen?" Darkbooty eyed the thrashing sheet with suspicion.

"Yeah. No thanks to the idiots who opened him up without me there," Dib growled. "There's just a few more things I need to check to make sure he's ready for more tests."

"Of course. We have room 37B waiting."

"Great. I'll only be a couple hours."

"Will you need an assistant, Mothman?"

Dib shook his head. "That won't be necessary." He pushed Zim down the hall under the narrow gaze of Darkbooty. He entered the room and closed the door. Immediately he untied the straps and flipped open his cell phone.

"Dad. We're in. You're getting the media?"

"Yes, son. They'll be in front of the Swollen Eyeball in two hours."

"And Tom is ready?"

"Yes. Which room are you in?"

Dib glanced over at Zim, who had plugged his PAK into the wall panel.

"37B. Three minutes, okay?"

"Alright. Son?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

"I will, Dad."

Zim jerked away from the wall as Dib pocketed his phone. They crouched by the door, listening. Waiting.

A gunshot. An angry yell. Footsteps rushing in several directions, and a woman screaming. The angry voice drew closer, and Dib nodded to Zim. They flung the door open and darted in front of Tom, who clenched a gun in both hands. Zim took the lead, charging down the hall as he screamed bloody murder.

Dib followed, hollering, "Get back here, dirty alien scum!"

Behind him, Tom roared, "He took my daughter! I'll kill him!"

Making sure the two hyumans didn't fall behind, Zim followed the blueprint he'd hacked from the system. Two turns, a twisting hall, and several doors. A few hands reached out to stop him, but they were scratched and bitten away, and then there! There was the right door. He jerked it open and ran in, pausing to catch his breath as Dib and Tom followed. Once in, Tom lowered the gun while Dib closed and locked the door.

In the middle of the room was a thick column of bluish, pulsing light. Various pieces of machinery surrounded it, and monitors recorded coordinates and anomalies in the field. Dib scanned the equipment briefly, ensuring that everything was still set for transportation to the Massive's teleporter.

"Wonderful perfomance," noted a cold voice. Darkbooty stepped into view from behind the teleporter. "I see you've switched loyalties, Mothman. Not the protector of Earth anymore? Decided to help them destroy the human race?"

Tom trained his gun on Darkbooty as Dib advanced on his former mentor, hands clenched into fists.

"_You're_ talking about saving the human race from _them_? Oh that's rich after you practically gift-wrapped my Mom and I for them, then shipped off a little girl!"

"We have to have specimens so we can know their weaknesses! Sacrifices have to be made to further paranormal research! You of all people should know that, Mothman, in your neverending quest for evidence of aliens!"

"I've heard it, over and over again. 'It's all for science!' 'Sorry this had to happen, but it was all for the bettering of mankind!' And you know what? It's crap. All of it. If you have to throw a woman, a baby, and a little girl to a _creature_ like Red, then it isn't worth it!"

"Think about what you're saying, Mothman. If we didn't do what we did, where would we be? Where would you be? We'd still be learning the basics of alien life, and you… you would just be a normal child, stupid and oblivious to the goings on around you. What we did was the direct cause of your intelligence!"

Dib's fist came up so fast, Darkbooty didn't have time to dodge. The old man crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Dib stood there a moment, glaring down at him, then turned to Tom and Zim.

"Come on. Let's finish this."


	18. Hallways

**Note: **Yay for writing breaks in between all-night studying.

Zim hesitated in front of the teleporter, his antennae lowered. Certain torture lay on both sides of the teleportation beam. Each experience had diminished his bravado, and there he stood, antennae quivering, trying to will himself to move forward. He watched as Dib strode through the beam, exploding into a zillion particles that would reassemble on the Massive. A mere child was not afraid of this. And yet Zim could not move.

A heavy hand settled on his shoulder. Startled, he glanced up at Tom's solemn face.

"You okay?"

Zim swallowed and nodded, then shook his head.

"Hey. We got your back."

Cocking an antenna, Zim puzzled, "No, I have my back."

Tom grinned, his teeth gleaming in the beam's light. "We're watching out for you."

Zim turned his head back to the beam. Quietly, he murmured, "Thank you, Tom-hyuman." He formed a picture in his mind, one of a dark night, a young girl, and a pool of water. He'd dived into a pool of water for Tiana once, before he was a real part of the family. Now he was the Braesur, and Mikko was the one in danger. Sucking in a deep breath, he held it, and stepped into the teleporter.

********************************************

Dib had come through gripping a semi-automatic watergun in one hand, using it to sweep the room, and a laser in the other, picking off the shocked and burning drones one by one. He stepped away from the beam, waiting for Zim and Tom. After a few minutes, Zim materialized, a little paler but no worse for the trip. Then Tom, holding his gun. Dib turned to Zim. "What now?"

Zim gestured to Dib's pocket. "You and I get the Professor's thingy ready, then go. We stand guard by Red's chambers. Tom, you make sure no one comes in here and leaves alive."

Tom shifted uncomfortably. "I don't like the idea of killing."

Zim's eye twitched. "Then hit them over the head hard. But you'll have to do that every few minutes, or their PAKs will wake them. Dib. Come on."

Zim flicked on a generic drone hologram and Dib pulled his jacket off, wrapping it around his head. A sliver of a gap allowed him to see. Zim grinned. "You are now the leather-headed beastie head thing."

"That's stupid."

"You're stupid."

"We don't have time for this."

"Right. Come on." Grabbing Dib's wrists, Zim led him out of the room, sealing the door behind him.

As they made their way through the halls, Dib made growling noises, lunging at a few passing Irkens. Zim would jerk him back and mutter a few audible curses at him. Passing drones and servants shied away from the strange creature. As they drew closer to Red's quarters, more soldiers patrolled the halls. The two ducked into a dead-end hall. Zim's claws shook some as he removed his PAK.

"This had better work. And you'd better hurry."

"Stop worrying. Dad's inventions always work." Dib unwrapped the jacket from his head and replaced it. From an inner pocket, he withdrew a small oval device. "And I'll hurry. Ten minutes, right? Shouldn't take that long."

"Just hurry and go!" Zim opened his PAK and shut off the power source.

"Right." Dib edged to the corner, peering around it. At least ten guards were stationed at various points in front of Red's door. Placing the device on the floor, he put his index finger in the center and traced a clockwise circle on it.

The guards broke into panicked chatter, taking off their PAKs to examine them. Dib had pulled back and could only see one or two of them, but the lack of lights on the PAKs assured him that the device had destroyed all functions. He glanced back at Zim. The alien had propped himself up against a wall. His eyes were already dulling.

Turning back to the device, Dib traced a counter-clockwise circle on it. Each of the drones gave a short cry before dropping to the ground, bleeding from the antennae. Pocketing the device, he turned to Zim.

Unconscious, Zim had slumped over. The device had affected him as well. Dib had only a few minutes to turn the PAK on. He opened it up and peered inside. _Come on, Zim showed you ten times. Stupid wires…. There._ Reaching in, he pressed a switch. The PAK lit up, wires reaching out from its flat side, searching for its host. Dib quickly withdrew his hands. Grabbing Zim's head, he pulled him over, exposing his back. The PAK wires snaked alone Zim's back, then slid into the holes. Wires secured themselves around his spine and traced a familiar route to the base of his brain. With a jolt of electricity and a deep gasp, Zim's eyes widened, shining with life and intelligence. Nanobots flooded his body, searching for damage caused by the device's sonic blast and healing it.

Dib released a long-held breath. "Hey spaceboy. Welcome back. It worked."

"What?"

"Welcome back. It worked."

"What?"

"It worked."

"What?!"

"IT WORKED YOU MORON!"

"That's very nice of you."

Dib sighed. Motioning for Zim to get up and follow him, he left the hall to pull the guards into the hall, out of sight. Zim followed his lead, stowing the guards. Dib then hid himself by the pile of dead guards while Zim brought up a second hologram. Now appearing as a soldier, he took a stand by Red's door. He was beginning to distinguish some sounds past the roaring in his head. The _thlod thlod thlod_ of guard footsteps. The laughter and taunts of guard voices. The frightened cry of—

Zim's eyes narrowed. Three guards escorted a trembling figure around the corner at the end of the hall. They pushed the figure and scratched at it, making jokes and laughing. It didn't matter whether it was Gloria or Mikko, Zim's spooch began to churn. He caught a glimpse of black hair, and he nearly broke his role to run down the hall. Stripped and frightened, Mikko was being herded down the hall. Herded to Red's quarters.


	19. Vengeance

"Halt." Zim forced his voice not to shake as the group approached. "Do you have clearance for this prisoner's transfer?"

One of the guards stepped forward. "What do you mean, clearance? Tallest Red ordered this transfer himself."

Zim scowled. "Tallest Red has reason to believe that there may be a retributive strike by the hyumans, therefore he requires special clearance from all Irkens entering his presence." He paused, looking over the squad. They glanced at each other, murmuring. Heaving a sigh, he shoved a couple aside and grabbed Mikko's arm. "Fools. I'll bring her in."

One Irken jerked his head around, eyes narrowed. " 'Her'?"

Zim's shoulders tensed, but he snarled, "It. I was distracted by your idiocy. Get moving."

The squad grumbled, but turned and marched off down the hall. A couple glanced back, and Zim jerked Mikko's arm as he dragged her toward the door. The moment the hall was deserted, Zim released Mikko's arm and dropped the hologram.

"Smeet, it's Zim."

She backed up to the wall, shaking, her eyes locked on him. He stepped forward, cautiously.

"Smeet." As quietly as he could. "It's Zim. Dib, Tom, and I came to get you."

Dib brushed past Zim, a wad of cloth in his hands. He set it by Mikko, his eyes averted, and stepped back out of sight. Mikko seized the cloth and shook it out, revealing a set of Irken clothes. Immediately she pulled them on. The clothes were tight, and she had to rip several seams to force them on, but she managed to cover herself.

Zim had turned his head away, but turned back again when she had finished. He reached out a hand to her, and she flinched, shrinking back against the wall. He stopped, a hollowness filling his chest. The open hand clenched into a fist and withdrew. He spun around, intending to order Dib to take her back to Tom.

Red's door was open.

"No…. no no no you stupid hyuman!" Extending his communicator, he barked, "Tom. I'm sending you a map. Come get Mikko now. If you hesitate over killing anyone in your way, know that her life depends on you getting here as quickly as possible!" Withdrawing the appendage, he glanced at Mikko's shivering form one more time and darted toward the doorway.

Red loomed over Dib, his armor removed. Only his ceremonial lower wrap remained. A network of pale green scars covered his hide, a reminder that even the Tallests had survived training. A single spiderleg rammed through the boy's shoulder, into the wall. Dib's face had drained of all color, and he appeared on the verge of passing out. Zim's antennae flattened against his skull. His lips curled back, revealing his sharp, zippered teeth. Red extended a second spiderleg, poising it over Dib's chest.

With a feral snarl, Zim launched at Red, catching him from the side. The spiderleg jerked free from Dib's shoulder with a nasty sucking sound as Red staggered back. Zim seized the larger Irken's moments of surprise, locking his legs around Red's waist, and began furiously clawing at the Tallest's stomach. Instinctively, he extended his spiderlegs and robotic arms to block the attack from the Tallest's PAK.

Red reached down and wrapped his claws around Zim's neck, squeezing off his air flow. Zim choked, his movements slowing, even as his claws parted the skin of his leader's stomach to reveal the vulnerable squeedlyspooch. His legs loosened, and Red jerked him away by the neck. Zim craned his neck and bit down hard on Red's arm. Howling, Red reflexively released Zim, who disengaged one spiderleg from the tangle to propel him over the Tallest's head. Seated firmly on his shoulders, Zim tightened his legs to choke Red while grabbing his antennae and yanking as hard as he could.

Abruptly, Zim looked down. Something was poking through his chest. A rush of pain slammed into him, and he felt his strength drain away. Red's spiderleg lifted him off and held him in front of the wounded leader, skewered through the back.

"You…" Red sneered. "don't… know… when… to die…" A second spiderleg jammed through Zim's body, and the two began pulling apart. Zim writhed, screaming as Red smirked. "Always… a Mekrelmar. No one… will ever… remember you… as anything… but that."

A faint voice countered, "You're the Mekelmor." Grasping the hole in his shoulder, Dib levered himself up on his legs, glaring. "If I hadn't been there, Zim would have taken over Earth easily, you idiot. He'd have proven you wrong. But you disowned him, you made him a joke after all he did for you, for your kind. If anyone's a traitor here, it's you!"

A third spiderleg shot out and slammed into the wall by Dib's head. He flinched, but matched Red's glare.

Slowly, Red grated, "It seems… you both are… eager to die… and in that case…" The spiderleg pulled out of the wall and its tip rested against Dib's forehead, "I'll grant that."

"You."

The lights in the room dimmed, flickering erratically. The intruding voice whipped across the room with an audible crack. Red's antennae jumped as he whipped his head around. At the far end of his chamber stood two figures. One, a tall woman with knee-length purple hair, wrapped in a blanket. The other, a knee-high girl, also with purple hair.

Gaz's fists clenched tight enough that blood seeped through her fingers. Her eyes flashed blood red, and her entire form was wrapped in darkness. She stepped forward, and the floor cracked with each step.

"You. Hurt. My. Mother."

Something warned Red that this creature would require all his defenses. He yanked his spiderlegs away from Dib and Zim, and turned to meet the oncoming menace. Yet with each step she took, the will to fight drained out of him, replaced by a cold terror.

"Nobody. Hurts. My. Mother." She was only a few feet away. He turned and scrabbled to get away, taking cover on the far side of a vast, canopied bed. Gaz, undeterred, followed, and disappeared from sight.

In times to come, Zim had difficulty remembering the full details of what happened. He had lost so much blood, he was barely conscious. But Zim would always remember Red screaming in terror and agony, begging and pleading for mercy, before he passed out.


	20. Hero

Professor Membrane stood in front of the Swollen Eyeball HQ, nervously tugging at his collar. The rather large press crowd had turned up to see something incredible, something the Professor had promised them. They had been waiting for half an hour. A grumble rippled through the reporters. Professor Membrane's name carried a lot of weight with them, but a no-show was a no-show, no matter who called the conference, and so far Membrane had given them nothing.

One or two turned to go. Membrane opened his mouth to call them back when the door behind him burst open. A tall black man strode out and down the steps, barreling past reporters and, in some cases, bowling them over. In his arms lay a small female figure, shaking uncontrollably. Reporters began taking pictures and writing notes, when the doors opened again. This time, it was a young man, half helping half dragging a creature out. The being trailed a streak of green blood across the cement, and the man's free shoulder sported a rapidly growing red stain. He gasped, "Dad… hospital…" Before collapsing to his knees, the creature falling with him.

"Hey! That's the alien!" cried a photographer, snapping as many pictures as he could.

Membrane pulled out his cellphone and called an ambulance. As he flipped it closed, the door opened a third time. A slender woman with long, purple hair stepped out. She stood, shivering under the blanket wrapped around her. Membrane sucked in a breath. "Gloria." He rushed over and gathered her in his arms. For a moment, she tensed, smothering a cry of fear, but then she realized who held her. She melted in his arms, sobbing, while a knee-high girl with purple hair watched, a smug grin on her face.

************************************************************

"Flirk! Flirk flirk flirk flirk!" Zim rolled out of the hospital bed and huddled in the corner, shaking. Dib stepped back, eyes wide.

"So… this explains a lot." He stared with a detached fascination at the dark flares lapping at his feet.

Gaz chuckled darkly, brushing over Zim with a flare, eliciting a squeal of terror.

"He smells good, you know that? His fear is ripe."

Dib cautiously stepped between them, holding out his hands. "Gaz, he helped save Mom. Come on."

She shot him a look that would have frozen water. "I'm not going to eat him, stupid. I just ate."

Dib glanced over at the Professor. "Dad? You never thought to tell me that you and Mom took in a baby Morflar?"

The Professor shrugged awkwardly. "We didn't know. She showed up on our doorstep, looking like a normal two year old girl. Her hair was black then, and her eyes were an odd color, but she seemed normal otherwise… although she did… well…" he sighed. "I suppose there were odd things about her."

"I admired Mom." Gaz intoned. "I drifted from my parents too early, and needed—still need—a caretaker. I changed my appearance to resemble her. She cared for me, and I enjoyed it. Simple." She turned away. "I see no reason why anything should change."

Zim whimpered behind Dib. Gaz glared at him, annoyed. "Stop shaking, would you? I already said I ate. Red won't be bothering anyone anymore." She smirked. "Although, who knows, in another hundred years…" Zim paled. "… it's a joke, Irken. You did help my Mom. For that, I'll make sure not to eat you when the century turns."

Dib turned to the Professor again. "So, Dad, the media?"

"Oh, yes. They're tearing the Swollen Eyeball apart on the news. They keep playing that clip of you bringing out Zim, and Tom carrying out Mikko. There's an official inquiry into the matter, and they've already found incriminating files."

Dib pressed, "And what about Zim? Have they said what's going to happen to him now that he's better?"

"Define 'better'." Zim mumbled, prodding the bandaged around his middle. "That's the second time I was opened up."

Dib shrugged, wincing. His jacket hid his own bandage nicely, but the wound wouldn't heal for weeks.

The Professor shook his head. "They're still looking through the evidence, but for now they've extended an amnesty, until they sort through what happened. If you have, um… footage or any sort of evidence in that thing on your back… it would be most helpful."

Zim nodded slowly. "I could do that." Grimacing, he added, "I'd do anything to keep out of a laboratory."

Dib grabbed Zim's antenna and gently tugged on it, grinning, "Hey, Spaceboy, nobody gets to do that but me, remember? It won't happen."

Zim made a face at Dib and poked him with a claw. "Right, it won't happen because I'll zap your brainmeats out stinkbeast."

They stared at each other for a minute, then chuckled.

"Did we really sound like that?" Zim mused.

"Every word of it." Dib laughed. Turning to his father, he asked, "Dad, how's Mom?"

"I'm not sure, son. She's shaken, but she's also better than she was. She knows Red is gone now, so she doesn't have to worry about him coming to get her. Speaking of which, what happens to Irkens now that Red is gone?"

Zim, climbing back into bed, waved a hand dismissively. "Purple will assume full power. He will be the Almighty Tallest. I do not know how he will rule, nor do I care. I am no longer a part of the Irken empire." His voice caught slightly, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it. Dib patted his shoulder.

"You did all right, Zim. You know, this time, you were the hero."

"Hero? What is that?"

Dib smiled. "A hero. It's the opposite of a Mekrelmar."

**Note:** Epilogue to come.


	21. Epilogue

Zim sat on the floor, despondently. Across from him stood a pink door, and behind the door huddled the closest thing he could call a sister. The second Zim had set foot in the house, Mikko had leaped out of Della's arms, bolted up the stairs, and locked her door.

"But it wasn't me," he protested, bewildered. Della had taken his claws in her hand, and Tom patted his head roughly.

"Zim," Della hedged, "Whatever happened to Mikko… well, it set her back a lot. She hasn't said a word since she's been back, and anytime she sees you on the news, she runs out of the room." As gently as she could, she'd explained, "I think, right now, just seeing you reminds her too much of the other… aliens."

Wordlessly, Zim had posted himself outside Mikko's door. He'd taken a break only to swoop Tiana into a hug when she'd returned and explain why Mikko wouldn't come out.

He sighed. The Earth government had forgiven him a week ago. Why couldn't Mikko? At least, he consoled himself, the evidence in his PAK had earned him amnesty, and a permanent place on Earth if he wanted. He was to be treated as an honored guest on the planet, and anyone harming him would be severely punished. He doubted this would stop the Swollen Eyeball, which had gone underground, but it would deter them for a while. And with Dib designated as Zim's official monitor and Earth guide, he suspected any mysterious absence of his would raise alerts immediately.

A sniff sounded from the other side of the door. Zim's antennae drooped further, and he crawled to the door. "Mikko. Please. It's Zim. Don't you remember Zim?" He put a hand on the door. "Remember Zim. Remember when you came in my room, and I was having a nightmare? Remember, you told me you had them too. That was the first time you spoke to Zim. And when I had to leave, you didn't want me to go? Did you know I didn't want to? That you and Tiana made me feel like I wanted to stay? I had burny liquids in my eyes, and my spooch felt like it got tied in knots. That's because you're special to Zim. You. Tiana. Manee—I mean Della. Tom. Even the Dib-stink."

The sniffling behind the door had stopped. Zim continued. "I didn't have family before, and I didn't have friends. Everybody else wanted me to die. But you all… you made me want to stay alive and not self-destruct. You saved my life. Did you know that?"

The door cracked open. Pale fingers curled around the edge of the door. Zim restrained himself from touching them. "Please. Smeet. I miss you."

The door opened further, revealing Mikko's tear-swollen face. Hesitantly, she held out her hand. He took it, with utmost care. She opened her mouth, and a spasm passed up from her stomach to her head.

"Shhh, smeet. I know it's hard to talk right now. You don't have to." He smiled. "We'll work on talking again, slowly. Right?"

She closed her mouth. Dropping her eyes to their hands, she traced a scar line along his claws. She glanced up again, studying his eyes.

_We both have scars, _he mused. _I just can't see hers._

Tom called up the stairs. "Zim! Dib called for you."

Reluctantly, Zim turned to leave. Mikko remained where she was, staring at the carpet where he'd been. He took the phone from Tom and barked, "What is it, Earth-smell?"

A shriek and a horrible crash greeted his antennae, as Dib yelped, "Would you get over here and take your crazy robot? Tallest Purple personally dumped him on my lawn before flying away!"

Zim blinked. "Why would he do that?"

"Maybe," Dib shouted, "Because he was causing as much damage to Purple's ship as he's causing to my house! WOULD YOU GET OVER HERE???"

Chuckling, Zim hung up the phone. "Hey, parental units. Assume that Zim shall return soon. GIR is back, I have to get him."

Della laughed. "Okay, but get back here before your food is cold. Don't worry, no meat or water."

"It comes to this," Zim grumbled, "I am ordered around by inferior smellies." But a small grin twitched at his mouth. Della threw a towel at him, which he dodged on his way out the door. Closing it, he allowed the grin to conquer his face. "Family." He muttered. "Who would have thought?"

THE END


	22. Author's Note

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hello everyone! I have written 29 stories to date and would like help with my 30th story. For this story I need someone who knows a massive amount of internet memes and or is very familiar with Anonymous. If you fit this description and have an AIM or Skype account, please message me, and I will talk to you. So there is less confusion, this notice is null and void after January 15th.

Thanks everyone, and Merry Christmas! And a Happy New Year.

--Dusty Rose, aka Hecallsmehischild


End file.
